


Rising Waters

by tifaching



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Dean, Established Relationship, M/M, Needy Dean, Oral Sex, Pre-Canon, Rimming, Shower Sex, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:25:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6644950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tifaching/pseuds/tifaching
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes running in the rain is just running in the rain.  Sometimes it's the end of everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rising Waters

“God fucking damn it.” The grimy lace curtain crackled aside as Dean peered out the window. The Impala was just visible in the premature dusk of a driving rainfall and he snarled his displeasure at the grey, dismal view.

“Not letting up?”

Considering that the pounding on the corrugated metal roof sounded like a herd of tap dancing buffalo, Dean didn’t bother answering his brother. Niagara Falls cascaded from the porch overhang to join the stream flowing steadily into a rapidly expanding puddle at the far end of the parking lot. Dean supposed he was lucky Sam was past the age when mud puddle jumping in the pouring rain was his favorite activity. He grinned and his grumpyness at the weather melted away. He’d chased Sammy around a hundred motel parking lots just like this one, trying like the world’s most put upon Border collie to herd his soaked little brother, who could frolic like an entire flock of spring lambs, away from the water he insisted on splashing through and back into the room. Sammy loved being wet.

“Wish Dad had left us in St. Louis,” Sam grumbled. “Don’t know why he had to drag us four hundred miles just to dump our asses again.”

Dean turned to face his brother, propping one shoulder against the nicotine stained wall. “So he wouldn’t have to drive so far to meet up with us again, I guess.”

“Why didn’t he just take us with him? Don’t you think that’s weird?”

“You’re weird,” Dean responded automatically. “Weird why?”

“Neither of us is hurt. I graduated two weeks ago.” Sam’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “And he’s hunting by himself?”

Dean just shrugged, though he’d been wondering about that himself. And worrying a little- about his father and his brother. Something had been off with Sam since he graduated and Dean’s antennae were raised. “Are you telling me you want to be hunting? That you’d be happier stuck in the Impala, driving through this shit, following him wherever he’s going? That the two of you wouldn’t be going at it as soon as you got out of the car?”

“No, I’m not telling you that,” Sam said with a scowl. “Just think it’s weird, that’s all.”

“Maybe he went to Vegas to see Wayne Newton and didn’t want us to know what a geezer he is. Maybe his bowling league has a tournament this weekend and he’s ashamed that he thinks it’s a sport.” Dean snapped his fingers and pointed at Sam. “Or, and I think this might be it, maybe he’s just spending some time with his other family.”

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause that’s likely. I bet he went to visit Caleb and they’re getting tanked.”

“Wherever he’s off to, he left us alone.” Dean stared meaningfully at Sam, who was sprawled in the room’s winged armchair, one leg hitched over the arm, sneakered foot swinging idly back and forth, an ever present book in his hands. “Maybe you should take the chance to enjoy where you are for a change instead of bitching about where you’re not. Besides, it’s probably raining in St. Louis and wherever Dad is, just like it’s raining here.”

“Only on the outside, I’ll bet.”

Dean’s gaze followed Sam’s glare to the water droplet slowly appearing from the center of a stained ceiling tile in the corner near the bathroom door. They both watched it plummet into a metal trashcan Dean had placed beneath its brethren to break their fall. “I think it might be a slight exaggeration to call one tiny leak rain, Francis. And besides, you hated our place in St. Louis, dry ceiling or not.”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded, tucking his index finger between the pages of his book to hold the place. He grimaced at the multi-tonal symphony of water plonking into the garbage can as he scanned the dust brown curtains and dingy bedspreads. “This place is definitely the honeymoon suite at the Ritz next to that craphole.”

“Honeymoon suite, huh?” Dean ignored Sam’s tone and waggled his eyebrows as he flopped backwards onto the bed. “Hey, you know, Sammy, this mattress is really comfortable.” He patted one hand invitingly on the eye watering spread. “Why don’t you come on over and…”

“I think I’m gonna go for a run.”

Dean propped himself on his elbows, unease slithering down his spine. It was the first time they’d been able to really get their hands on each other in weeks and his brother wanted to go for a run? “Uh, in case you hadn’t noticed, there’s a fucking monsoon blowing through out there. All normal people are indoors where it’s mostly dry.”

“I like being out in the rain,” Sam said, as if Dean didn’t know, didn’t remember. “People in general like being out in the rain. I think they write songs about it.”

“Lame songs about freaky people.” Dean rolled off the bed and yanked back the curtain. The view hadn’t improved. “Look, Sam. No one is out in this.”

“Good.” Sam’s smile was unexpected, teeth flashing at Dean as he darted out the door. “It’ll be just the two of us.”

“Fuck that,” Dean hollered after him, wincing as Sam motored right through the pond sized puddle on his way out of the parking lot, water splashing to his knees with each step. “I’m staying inside with the not crazy people.”

Sam loved running like he loved water. He ran laps around soccer fields and high school tracks. He ran on trails through the woods and along crowded city streets. Once he’d run all the way to Tuscon, but probably he wasn’t headed there today in the pouring rain with just the clothes on his back. Dean paused just long enough to grab the room key off the table before pounding out the door after his brother.

Dean skirted the edge of the giant puddle because he wasn’t an overgrown five year old who didn’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain, like certain other Winchesters he could mention. Catching Sam would also be much easier if the kid’s sneakers were waterlogged and his boots were dry. Dry-ish. In truth, and it killed Dean to admit it, he’d need every advantage he could get. Sam’s latest growth spurt brought him slightly more than even in the height department but Dean still had about thirty pounds of muscle weighing him down that Sam’s beanpole physique didn’t have to worry about carting around quite yet. Frankly, the thought of what his brother would be like when he finally finished growing both terrified Dean and made his knees weak. Right now, though, when the kid got a full head of steam up he could fucking fly.

Sam had turned right out of the parking lot so Dean did the same, water streaming into his eyes and flattening his hair against his skull. His brother was going to pay for that. Sam was still visible about four blocks down, sprinting across the sidewalk in front of a strip mall, water kicking up behind him with each stride. Water cascaded down the streets, surging over the sidewalks in spots but Sam just kept on going, splashing around the corner and vanishing from sight.

Dean had nightmares that started this way sometimes. He had nightmares that started every possible fucking way, but only the ones involving fire could steal his breath like these did. In his dreams Sam runs through the rain and he won’t stop running like the water won’t stop rising. It comes up to his ankles, then reaches his knees, eventually buoying him up until he can’t reach the pavement. Dean’s behind, like he is now, struggling in terror to catch up but never gaining any ground. The fear isn’t of Sam drowning or being swept away, though Dean knows just how quickly a whirlpool can appear to suck your whole life into its depths. He knows how easy it is to drown even with your feet planted solidly on dry ground. The water in his dream is placid and still as it expands to cover everything from horizon to horizon. Sam moves further and further away but he isn’t drifting on any riptide or current. Sam _swims_ into the distance, arms cleanly cutting through the water, legs churning for even more speed. Dean tries to follow, but a thick iron chain winds around his ankle, dropping beneath the water to an anchor resting on the ground far below. He calls for his brother to come back, but Sam never even turns his head as he swims out of sight. Dean always woke gasping for air as the chain dissolves, leaving him alone and adrift in the endless ocean.

He reached the corner where Sam turned and rounded it, heart about to pound through his chest. Dreams were just dreams, they didn’t fucking come true, but the rain was falling harder if that was even possible and water flowed ankle deep on the sidewalks as the overloaded storm drains called it quits. Sam was out of sight now, the little bastard, and Dean started sloshing down the block, hoping that his brother would be visible at the next intersection. Three doors down, a jerk on the back of his waterlogged shirt dragged him into the recessed entryway to the local smoke shop, Sam’s laughter music to his ears.

“Damn it, Sammy.” Dean whirled around, but Sam was right on top of him, crowding him against the wall.

“Took you long enough,” Sam whispered into Dean’s neck. Sam’s fists bunched in Dean’s t-shirt and his breath burned dragon hot against Dean’s rain chilled skin.

“You had a head start,” Dean managed before Sam covered his mouth with a bruising kiss, his hands wandering down then worming their way under Dean’s shirt, tracing fire across his belly. Dean’s tension drained away as he leaned against the bricks, fingers tangling in Sam’s drenched hair. He closed his eyes, immersing himself in Sam’s kiss and determinedly ignoring the fact that his head tilted slightly up to align with his brother’s. “You know,” he said when Sam came up for air, “all this was on offer back in the nice dry motel room.”

Sam’s eyes followed Dean’s hand as it trailed down his body, detailing exactly what had been on offer. He huffed out what might have been a laugh and dropped his forehead against Dean’s. “It’s just…I mean…we live our whole lives in those rooms, one after the other, all of them the same.” He pulled back just a little and his hair fell over his eyes, blocking them from Dean’s view. His hands came up to cup Dean’s cheeks and he took a deep breath. “Don’t you ever just want to get away?”

Dean stilled, frozen to his core by words he’d last heard four years ago after Dad dragged Sam back home from Arizona. He could still hear his father’s voice, low and furious in the next room and Sam’s muted defiance. Sam had come out pale and shaking, tears of anger in his eyes, a bruise on his arm where Dad gripped him too tight the only physical damage and those desperate words ripping into Dean’s soul as his brother brushed by him in the hallway. “Away where?” he rasped, amazed that his throat could be so dry when the rest of him was drenched.

Sam just smiled and shook his head, maybe realizing he’d just played a card he wanted to keep in his hand for a while longer. “I don’t know,” he said and Dean could hear the lie in his voice. “Just out of the room for a while, you know?”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean said, voice even as his body trembled because he played this game better than Sam ever could. “So we’re out of the room, Einstein. You better not have made me chase you through all this damned rain just so we could make out in the doorway of a head shop. Where does your brilliant escape plan go from here?”

“Hadn’t really thought that far ahead,” Sam admitted, eyes narrowing as he stared at his brother, shivering against the wall. “Jesus, Dean, you’re freezing. Why didn’t you say something?”

Dean growled as Sam draped himself over him in the completely mistaken belief that his soaking wet self would provide some sort of insulation. “Not helping, Sammy,” he said, though he wanted to pull his brother close and keep him there forever.

“Oh, sorry.” Sam stepped back hurriedly. “Guess now we go back to the room before you catch pneumonia.” A grin blossomed on his face. “Hey, remember when I was little and got caught in the rain, you used to put me in a bath to warm me up?”

“You mean do I remember when you used to run out into the rain on purpose and hit every puddle in existence before I could get you back into the room? I do remember that. And do you remember that I had to bribe you with extra Lucky Charms to get you in the tub because you refused to believe that the water in the tub was the same as the water in the puddles only cleaner and warm?”

“I do not remember that.” Sam looked down at Dean, all wide eyes and innocence. “So, am I going to have to bribe you with something to get you into a nice, hot shower?”

“You’re showering under the leak in the ceiling,” Dean grumped.

Sam brushed one last, feather light kiss against Dean’s lips before jumping out of the doorway. “Gonna beat your ass going this way, too,” he called as he splashed down the sidewalk, though he kept to a steady, ground eating lope instead of an all out sprint.

Dean stayed a few steps behind, swallowing hard every time Sam turned his head as if to check that he was still there. “Wait for my move at the finish line, Sammy,” he called when Sam turned around and started backpedaling. “And you’d better be thinking of one hell of a bribe.”

Dean dragged Sam around the fucking swimming pool sized puddle at the entrance to the parking lot because who the hell knew what was under there and his brother wasn’t getting sucked into a sinkhole if Dean could help it. After a brief tussle over the room key, Dean tumbled into the room first, Sam practically riding his back.

“Get off me.” Dean tried to shrug Sam off but couldn’t escape his octopus grasp.

“Uh, uh,” Sam murmured. “This is my bribe.”

“Me dragging you around for the rest of the night isn’t much incentive for anything, Sammy.”

“Really?” Sam’s mock hurt almost made Dean smile. “Okay, then. How about I just take care of you for the rest of the night?”

“What, like make me chicken soup and fluff my pillow? Not much better.”

“Actually, I was planning on starting by getting you out of those wet clothes. And then washing your hair in the shower.”

Dean let out a low whistle. Sam’s big hands massaging his scalp was Dean’s idea of heaven. “Sounds like a decent start. Then what?”

Sam rested his head on Dean’s shoulder and whispered in his ear.

“Yeah?” Dean pursed his lips and nodded. “Works for me.”

Sam whispered again.

“That too? Damn, you’re going all out here. Consider your bribe accepted.”

“All right, then.” Sam wasted no time tugging the hem of Dean’s shirt up and dragging it over his head, grabbing a blanket from the closet to cover goose-pimpled skin.

“You’re wet too Sam.” Dean tried half heartedly to push his brother away as Sam’s fingers fumbled at the fly of his jeans. “You need to get out of your clothes before you catch something.”

“Don’t worry,” Sam said, struggling to push Dean’s soaked jeans down his legs. “I’m going to be as naked as you are when we get to that shower.” After a few long minutes fighting with Dean’s saturated boot laces Sam finally just cut the knots with his knife. “I’ll buy you new ones,” he said, tossing the boots, followed by Dean’s socks and then his jeans, across the room.

Sam shimmied out of his clothes in world record time, kicking off his sneakers instead of fussing with the laces, then trotted into the bathroom to get the water running. Dean sat on the bed, huddled in his blanket until Sam came back and reached out a hand.

“C’mon, man,” he said, gripping Dean by the arm. “It’s going to be okay.”

Dean didn’t agree with that sentiment at all, but let Sam propel him into the bathroom. “Better be a damned sight more than okay,” he muttered. “Dragging me out in that hurricane to freeze my ass off.”

“It will be,” Sam promised before dragging Dean into the shower, his tone sending a different kind of shiver through Dean’s bones.

Dean leaned back against Sam and sighed as his brother’s long fingers carded soap through his hair then ducked Dean’s head under the almost scalding flow to rinse it until it squeaked. He was definitely heating up now, relaxed in the steam in spite of himself. Sam’s hand wandered down until those talented fingers were wrapped around Dean’s cock, moving in slow strokes that Dean’s warmed flesh was finally responding to.

“That’s it,” Sam said, big hands bracketing Dean’s hips as he spun his brother around to face him. “If your downstairs brain is back in action, I think you’re going to live.”

“Mmmmmm.” Dean sagged against the tiled wall behind him. “If you’d permanently damaged little Dean with your stupid running in the rain shit, you’d be the one who’d have to worry about dying.”

Sam nodded, face serious. “Guess I better be positive he’s fully recovered then.”

Dean stifled a groan as Sam dropped to his knees, tongue snaking along the length of Dean’s cock. He almost joined Sam on the bottom of the tub when Sam closed his lips around him and began to suck. “Fuck,” he moaned banging his head lightly against the tiles in time with Sam’s swallows and the squeeze/slide of his hands.

“Mmmm,” Sam said, pulling off long enough to swipe his tongue across the crown of Dean’s dick. “That comes later.”

Dean let himself go, lost in the hot perfection of Sam’s mouth until his brother did some sort of tongue swirling bob and Dean almost passed out from the force of his orgasm. Sam swallowed and then swallowed some more, milking Dean through the aftershocks before wrapping his hands around Dean’s ass and levering himself to his feet. Dean blearily propped his eyes open as Sam’s lips pressed against his and Sam’s come coated tongue dove into his mouth.

When the water was running lukewarm, Sam turned it off and grabbed two thick towels from the rack. One made a nice turban and Sam snickered as he wrapped it around his brother’s head, smacking Dean’s hand as he reached up to take it off.

“Leave it,” he said, wiping down Dean’s chest and belly with the other towel and Dean sighed but left it.

Towel dried and with only slightly damp hair, Sam built a nest of spare blankets on the bed and settled Dean onto it before sliding between his brother’s legs. “Don’t want you freezing up again,” he murmured, slipping a hand down to fondle Dean’s spent cock. “Rather have Dean junior here in on the action.”

“Me too,” Dean said, grunting as Sam’s elbows hooked under his knees, bending him in half in one smooth move. “Show off.”

“Oh, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” Sam said as he moved his hands to Dean’s ass, shifting the balance so Dean’s shoulders pressed into the mattress.

Dean knew that was no idle boast. Anything Sam couldn’t do with his hands and his mouth and his dick to make Dean’s every last nerve ending scream with pleasure had yet to be discovered by humanity. Of course, Dean could give as good as he got, but Sam hadn’t finished paying off his bribe by a long shot. “Lay it on me, Casanova.”

Sam grinned and licked a long, warm stripe across Dean’s rump before baring his teeth and biting down hard enough to bruise.

“Shit,” Dean groaned between gritted teeth, but his cock twitched and began to fill as Sam added a matching bruise on the other cheek. “Sadist.”

“Can’t help it that you’re kind of a pain slut, Dean.”

Sam really did know him too well. Dean’s reply couldn’t get past the roar he let out as Sam’s gigantic hands parted his ass cheeks so that talented tongue could get to work. His neck arched and his hips bucked but Sam’s grip kept him locked in place as his tongue slowly painted a hot, wet circle around Dean’s hole. Taking his sweet time, Sam alternated short flicks against Dean’s rim with long strokes across it until Dean was quivering and his dick was standing at attention, erect and practically saluting. When he was ready to shoot off just from that, Sam maneuvered his tongue inside, working Dean’s tight entrance open. Dean’s hands fisted in the blankets as Sam slid one long finger and then another in alongside his tongue.

Dean’s eyes practically rolled back in his head as he reached up to tap Sam’s shoulder. “Sammy, that feels fucking awesome and if this was your bribe you could keep it up all damned night. Ahhh, shit, yeah, right there, yeah, but my bribe pretty much requires that you get your cock in me right the fuck now.”

Sam pulled back with a regretful little sound and fished a condom out of his duffle, freezing when Dean’s hand shot out to grip his wrist. “Dean?” he said, staring at his brother in confusion.

Dean stared back. They always used condoms, it paid to be safe but tonight Dean could care less about safe. He wanted to feel Sam moving inside him, filling him up, making him moan. Sam, not some latex dick wrapper. Of course, he couldn’t say that. “I trust you.” Simple, to the point and in no way chick flicky. “And you can trust me too. I made sure I was clean before I ever touched you. And it’s only ever been you since, Sammy.”

Sam held Dean’s eyes and flicked the condom away, reaching for the lube instead. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I touched you first. Just to be accurate here.”

“Oh,” Dean said, avidly watching Sam slick himself up. “You might be right. Did you have some sordid sexual past I should have known about, because I was pretty sure you were a virgin.”

“No,” Sam muttered as he ran his lube moistened fingers over the curve of Dean’s belly and slid them over his peaked nipples. “I was. You were the one with the sordid sexual past. But it’s only ever been you for me ever.”

Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly as Sam breached him. It had been a while since they’d fucked and Dean could maybe have used a bit more opening up to accommodate Sam’s oversized cock, but really, the stretch felt good and the burn felt awesome and Sam was finally using those runner’s legs for something as he rocked against Dean’s ass.

Sam had stamina to burn and he pounded into his brother long after little Dean cried uncle and painted Dean’s chest and face with spunk. Finally, when Dean was reluctantly about to wave the white flag himself, Sam stilled then spilled, hot and slick, filling Dean with his come.

Sam pulled out slowly, as unwilling to leave the tight heat of Dean’s body as Dean was to have him leave. Chest heaving, Sam lowered Dean’s hips until he lay flat on the bed, then stared until Dean squirmed uncomfortably.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he cracked, wanting to swallow the words right back down when Sam’s eyes darkened and he looked away.

“Man, you need another shower,” Sam said when he’d gotten his expression under control.

“No way,” Dean replied, not at all surprised that Sam had gone the traditional Winchester ignoring of things way. “I’m down for the night.”

Sam snagged a damp towel from the back of the chair and carefully wiped Dean’s face and body clean. He tossed the towel back toward the chair then slumped on the bed next to his brother. “’Night, Dean,” he said with a small smile as he reached out to switch off the light.

“’Night, Sam.” Dean wiggled and tugged until they were nestled in a cocoon of blankets, snugged up against each other, staring silently into the dark.

Sam succumbed to sleep first, nodding off with his back tight against Dean’s chest. Dean fought it longer, face pressed into his brother’s neck, Sam’s hair tickling his nose with every breath. When Dean’s eyes finally slid closed, rain was already falling and the water was starting to rise.


End file.
